


Hellfire

by catgrrld



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: All relationships are platonic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eret-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Regret, Swearing, They/Them Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Traitor Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Trauma, Wither Hybrid Eret (Video Blogging RPF), autistic ranboo, ranboo can teleport
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29384832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catgrrld/pseuds/catgrrld
Summary: In which Eret tries to deal with trauma, both their own and that they have inflicted on others, and makes a friend along the way.
Relationships: Eret & Niki | Nihachu, Eret & Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 85





	Hellfire

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter titles are inspired by the song "Hellfire" by Barns Courtney. Eret uses any pronouns, but I'm just using they/them from their POV so it doesn't get confusing once more characters are added.

Their hands are shaking again.

The longer they linger in their mind the more it hurts, the murky water of the cesspool heavy and acidic, tainted with poisonous memories. It pains them to remember _'the incident'_ , let alone confront their previous wrongdoings— of which there were many— head-on, but there is an aspect of it that they find addicting. Eret has come to accept, even welcome, the burn. Perhaps if they let it consume them, allow the guilt to greedily devour their very being, they will drown.

Not to say that Eret particularly wants to die, rather they yearn for an escape of any kind, even if only a fleeting moment, safe from the recollection of what they have done.

A few of those they'd harmed expressed their personal forgiveness through words, but the suffocating feeling in Eret's chest reassures them it's only that: words. They could see it clearly enough in the way Tommy anxiously took a step away whenever they drew near, the teenager undoubtedly searching for an excuse to avoid interacting with them; in the way Tubbo repeatedly looked over his shoulder whilst Eret was trying to help rebuild. Eret is only the tyrannical hybrid freak with unsettling eyes and scary dark claws and no dignity to the rest of them, and they know it.

It's evident to anyone who looks that they aren't welcome around the others, and so they spend most of their days in their lonely castle, reflecting on where they had gone wrong. Their life and reputation has been destroyed beyond repair, each day nothing more than a blurry haze. Weeks have passed since the last visitor, Dream, stopped by.

Countless things have changed since Dream last spoke with Eret (Dream's imprisonment being one), but the general perception of the half-Wither king was not among them. Despite their best efforts to make things right with the surviving L'manberg rebels, it was never going to be enough.

Part of Eret feels themself growing annoyed with the sheer stubbornness of Tommy that denies them an ounce of trust. Regardless, they have never been able to bring themself to hate the teenager. Tommy was only a child when the L'manberg war broke out, and Eret can't blame him for all of the times he's been immature or disrespectful. He didn't have an opportunity to be a kid, and it's apparent to them in hindsight that his attitude is his way of coping with this.

Oddly enough, the fiery attitude of Tommy is what keeps everything standing— time and time again, it's always been him. The stubbornness that he harbours is what created L'manberg, the driving force that finally put a stop to Dream's tyranny.

And so, Eret refuses to hate Tommy.

Just as they sank in too deep and began to think about Wilbur, the clang of the crown slipping from their tilted head and crashing to the floor drags them from their thoughts. They drop to their knees and study the crown, noticing a dent in the carefully polished gold.

"Fuck," they murmur, then repeat themself, louder this time, knowing nobody is around to hear. " _Fuck!_ "

Their curses echo through the empty throne room and quietly fade into the distance, leaving Eret alone with the dented crown and their guilt.

  


* * *

  


Almost as suddenly as they had fallen asleep, Eret awakes on the floor of their throne room, their cold hands still clinging to the crown. Tears coat the floor beneath them, easily mistaken for an ink spill. Eret takes their sunglasses off and wipes the wetness from their cheeks, rubbing the dark tearstains off on their royal cape. No point in looking presentable, it isn't as though they're going to have any visitors today. _Just like yesterday_ , they think with a shaky exhale and a yawn.

They lay in their puddle of tears, watching the sunlight filter through the windows. They don't have a clue what to do about the crown situation, and worry eats away at their stomach.

Maybe Dream was right— George would have been a better king.

Eret curls up on the floor and presses their legs to their chest, suppressing another sob. They can feel their own claws pricking at their skin and squeeze their eyes shut, willing the day to go away. All they want is to drift back into their dreamless sleep.

_Vwoop._

Their milky-white eyes snap open at the unmistakable sound of an Enderman teleporting. Out of habit, they sit up and reach for their sword, only to discover that their hand falls upon empty air— _Ted's Wrath_ isn't on them.

Beginning to panic, Eret looks around the room and spots the glow of the enchanted Netherite sword propped against the throne.

They drag themself across the floor, not wanting to catch the Enderman's attention whilst they are unarmed. They're completely defenceless where they lay, only their thick cape, pants, and grey shirt protecting them from whatever dangers they may come across. Any monster could easily take them out in this state.

They do not plan on dying today.

Eret breathes a soft sigh of relief once they reach forward and feel their hand rest on the hilt. They stand up on shaky legs, grasping the sword tightly in both hands and raising it in front of their face. Now that they're on their feet, they can see clearly the ender particles that the monster left behind. Though the Enderman is out of their line of sight, they have no doubt that it's still lurking in the castle, waiting for the right moment to jump out and strike them.

"Damnit," they breathe, anxiety lacing their voice. They have killed many, many Enderman before, but they don't want to fight today. Continuing the unending uphill battle with their mind takes all of the strength they have.

They hear the teleporting sound again, even closer this time. The feeling that someone is watching grows stronger still. Eret's heart rate increases and they struggle to steady their breathing.

"Fuck, Eret. What kind of king can't even defeat one enemy?" They scold themself, turning around.

The hybrid gives a startled jump at the sight of tall dark pant legs. Slowly, they tilt their head upward until they are face-to-face with someone who, to their surprise, is not an Enderman.

Not entirely, anyway.

"R-Ranboo?" they stutter, letting their sword clatter to the floor. "What, um, what brings you here?"

Ender particles swirl around the other hybrid's body.

"I was practising teleporting and I guess I forgot that somebody lives here— what's your name?." 

Eret raises an eyebrow. "We've met before. My name is Eret, remember?" They consider reintroducing themself as the king of the Dream SMP, but decide against it. They don't feel worthy of such a title.

"Oh!" Ranboo nods, offering his hand for them to shake. "I don't remember a lot of things, these days."

Eret sighs. "I wish I had that problem right now."

"Not really," he says, and Eret can feel his unblinking eyes studying them. "What happened to your clothes? I didn't do that, did I?"

They look down at their tear-stained shirt and try to wipe it off with their clawed hands, though to no avail. Eret looks back to Ranboo and shakes their head. "No, I just kind of.. cry weird."

"Oh." Ranboo makes a strange Enderman-esque sound under his breath and Eret stares back quizzically.

"Sorry," he apologises. "I don't— eye contact.. that stuff makes me uncomfortable. Maybe it's just the Enderman in me," he adds, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah," Eret nods, diverting their gaze to the floor. "I-I get it."

The lull in the conservation makes Eret's anxiety spike again. What does Ranboo know about their past? Has he been told everything by Tommy and the others? Oh god, he probably hates them.

Ranboo studies Eret in silence for a moment before bending down to pick up the sword they had previously dropped. He looks it over, running his gloved hand across the smooth blade.

"Nice sword you have here," he says politely.

There is no sarcasm or malice in his tone, and the excitement of finally having someone to talk to partially alleviates their worries.

"Thank you," they reply, "it's called _Ted's Wrath_. Does your sword have a name?" Eret asks, motioning to the purple-grey sword glistening in Ranboo's weapon holster.

Ranboo nods. "Mine is _Blockbeard's Sword_. I got it from a treasure chest during.. well, it's a long story. Not to brag, but it has some really awesome enchantments— Sharpness, Mending, Fire Aspect, you get the idea."

Eret raises their eyebrows. "Impressive," they remark, reaching up to retrieve their sword from him.

"I guess I should get going now. I don't want to bother you too much," Ranboo says lightheartedly, turning on his feet and walking away.

They don't want the other to leave. Alone is the last thing Eret wants to be right now, but they can't stop Ranboo from doing what he pleases. Forcing him to stay would be a great way to make the hybrid hate him, and then who would they have to talk with?

"Okay... Will you come back later?"

Ranboo pauses his walk and turns back to them. "What did you say?" he asks. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you."

Eret hesitates. _You selfish bastard._

"Have a good day," they finally say, forcing a grin.

Ranboo smiles. "You too, Eret."

Eret is alone again.


End file.
